


Solitaire

by oneoneseven



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: All The Ships, Alternate Universe, Everyone Is Alive, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Solitaire - Freeform, Where the hell is Cole, Wicked Grace
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 07:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3519998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneoneseven/pseuds/oneoneseven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders searches for himself and finds Hawke looking at him as though he was meant to be here all along. When the Ace of Diamonds falls for the newly-arrived Joker, what do you say to the hierarchy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Anders

**Author's Note:**

> so. this is based off a pack of cards, and also inspired by 'the solitaire mystery' by jostein gaarder. wicked grace will eventually come into play, once i figure out how... anyway! i had to get this first bit out so i could sleep... let me know what you think. you can also start guessing which character goes where in the pack, but i probably won't confirm or deny your guesses. fun! (also, if you're wondering - yes, i'm still working on my SnK and hunger games fics. i'm just a potato that procrastinates i'm sorry)

“We are thrown together with a sprinkling of stardust.”

* * *

 

There was something tickling the back of his ear. He twitched at the sensation, and heard someone giggle. _A child_ , he thought wearily. _I hate children_. The tickling continued, and he snapped to attention at once, once the sleep had faded completely from his tired body. He sat up and opened his eyes, ready to snatch the one responsible by the collar for disturbing his sleep, when he came face-to-face with an elven girl – _most certainly not a child_ , he mused. The elf had a wicked look about her, what with the way her lips held a sinister, though lopsided grin, as though she knew something about him that he hadn’t yet found out for himself.  
  
“Finally awake, yeah?” she said, waving the feather in front of his face. “About time, too. You were rambling in your sleep about mages and freedom and all that. Shite, you look terrible. What’s your name? Wait, don’t answer that if you’re drunk.” She blinked. “Are you drunk? Is that why you’re out here?”  
  
“I-” he began, but the elf girl interrupted him.  
  
“No, but you’ve got your breeches with you.” She cocked her head to the side, studying him with narrowed eyes. “Not drunk then. I’ve never seen you before. What suit are you from? Not Clubs, obviously!”  
  
“Now you’re the one rambling,” he finally said, raising his voice a little as he grew weary of the elf girl’s incessant chattering. “What are you talking about? What suits?” His head throbbed, suddenly. “What…”  
  
“You don’t know about the suits?” She frowned. “That’s fucking bullshit. You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you? Are you one of the Spades?” She wrinkled her nose as though smelling something unpleasant. “Fucking tits. Always pretending they’re better than us. This a new strategy, then? Pretending you don’t know anything at all, making me nervous?”  
  
He rubbed his eyes. “No, that’s not-”  
  
“You know what, shut it. Give me your name. I’ll find out where the hell you’re from.” The elf girl seemed disgusted at best, as though it was suddenly _his_ fault they were talking in circles.  
  
“My name…” He looked down at his hands. He had _hands_ , that was… normal. Why did he find it so surprising?  
  
“Yeah, Blondie. Your name.”  
  
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The throbbing was getting harder to ignore, now. He tried to recall his name, but it was like trying to catch the wind with his own bare hands. He didn’t know. There was nothing to be remembered. Somehow that frustrated him, and it seemed to have the same effect on the elf girl before him as well.  
  
“Name? Hello?” She thwacked him on the side of his head. “Fucking loony, you are.”  
  
“You’re the crazy one, hitting somebody you only just met!” he retaliated, putting a hand to the spot she had struck him. The headache was intensifying, now. “Damn it, why don’t you tell me _your_ name first? And your _suit_ , for that matter!”  
  
The elf drew back a little, frowning. “It’s Sera. I’m with the Clubs.”  
  
“Clubs,” he repeated in a whisper. “That’s nice.”  
  
“Five of Clubs,” she added, almost as an afterthought. “Well? Understand anything I’m saying yet?”  
  
He ran a hand through his hair, untangling stray knots like he tried to do with his emotions. “Unfortunately not. This is all… strange. I don’t know where I was before this.”  
  
“Spades?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Are you one of the Spades?”  
  
He sighed. “No.”  
  
“Diamonds, then.”  
  
“No, sorry.”  
  
She pointed at him all of a sudden, shouting with glee. “You’re a fuckin’ Heart!”  
  
He almost laughed at how desperate she was. He, too, sorely needed some validation and some actual answers, but something told him he wasn’t going to find it with Sera.  
  
“I wish I could tell you that was true,” was all he said before she leaped to her feet in frustration.  
  
“That’s fucking weird, right!” She glared at him as though he had offended her, or perhaps tripped her over on purpose. “Everybody knows where they’re from! You’re either a snotty Spade, a Diamond or a Heart. If you don’t know-”  
  
“I’m sorry, Sera, but-”  
  
_Anders,_ something whispered within the depths of his mind. He blinked, and then looked up at Sera again. “Anders,” he repeated softly, almost like a prayer.  
  
“What’s that?”  
  
“Anders,” he said. “My name. I’ll take Anders over Blondie.”  
  
“I haven’t heard of any _Anders_.” She made an aggravated noise and threw her hands up in the air. “Thought I could steal your breeches if you were a Spade, right? Then you tell me you’re not, and then you say you don’t know where you’re from. Fucking shite, that is.”  
  
“Is not knowing everything so hard to live with?” he asked her, frowning.  
  
“When there are only fifty-two of us in this world, _yeah_.” Sera rolled her eyes. “You’re not a very good joker. Tit.”  
  
“Unfortunately, a Joker is what he may be.”  
  
Anders turned to his left, where the man’s voice had come from. He thought he heard Sera hiss, somewhere to his right, but he was more preoccupied with the tall man striding over to him at this very moment. He was dressed finely, with dark furs draped over his shoulders and steel armor underneath the red coat. He had a hand on the hilt of his sword, almost as though he was prepared to go into battle at any moment, though his expression was not hostile.  
  
“Stubbles,” he heard Sera mutter begrudgingly.  
  
“Five of Clubs,” the man acknowledged, but not unkindly. “Don’t you recall the rules?”  
  
“What rules,” Sera spat.  
  
“We have _two_ Jokers, Sera,” the man said, almost lamenting. “Just because you go around pretending Cole doesn’t exist doesn’t mean it’s true. You do remember Cole, yes?”  
  
“What, that thing?” Sera growled. “Yeah, sure, whatever. Give it a name if you want.”  
  
The man sighed, and turned his attention back to Anders. “I apologize. My name is Cullen. I am the King of Diamonds. You must be very confused.”  
  
“I’m actually on the verge of a mental breakdown, but yes, we’ll go with ‘confused’ for now.”  
  
The King smiled sympathetically and extended a gauntleted hand to Anders. “Come. We will meet with the rest.”  
  
“Ah, the other fifty,” Anders quipped, casting a glance at Sera, who looked absolutely annoyed at this point. “Great.”  
  
With a lack of better things to do, Anders gripped Cullen’s hand and rose to his feet. Cullen led the way, walking in a way Anders could only describe as regal and animalistic at the same time. Sera skipped ahead of them, clearly caring very little about decorum and posture before royalty. Cullen shook his head and smiled in Anders’ direction. “She has always been a character.”  
  
“You’re just being polite, aren’t you?” Anders returned a smile.  
  
“It’s unbecoming of a King to speak ill of others, even if they belong to other suits.” Cullen kept his eyes forward as they emerged from the forest into a clearing, where horses stood waiting as several people tended to them. One of them was a woman with brown hair that spilled over her shoulders and turned almost red in the brilliant sunlight. Anders was amazed at her beauty. Though dressed in armor, she retained overwhelming grace in her movements as she went over to check on every horse.  
  
“The Queen,” Cullen said, almost reverently. “Levana Amell. Though some prefer to address her as the Warden. Come. I will introduce you.”  
  
As they approached, Anders noticed two more people by the horses’ side. Both of them had black hair, and the only striking differences were the colors of their eyes. The man had striking blue eyes that seemed eager to burn a hole in Anders when he glanced his way. The woman, by comparison, held kinder, softer brown eyes, and she smiled in acknowledgement when Anders met her gaze.  
  
“My Queen,” Cullen began. “This is Anders… our final Joker.”  
  
“Oh?” The Queen of Diamonds dropped the reins of the horse she had been trying to communicate with and turned fully to face Anders and Cullen. She grinned, almost as though in triumph. “I had a feeling our hunting trip would be fruitful.”  
  
“You eat Jokers, then?” Anders couldn’t stop himself. Cullen seemed horrified, glancing quickly from him to the Queen.  
  
“Oh, sure,” Levana said, smirking. “The bones are the best bit. Right, Cullen?”  
  
“I- what she means is-”  
  
Levana laughed. The sound of it was melodious. Anders suddenly thought of how lucky Cullen was to have her as his Queen. “We need to work on playing along with other people’s jokes, Cullen. Oh!” She beamed at Anders, before beckoning to the young man and woman to come over. “You must meet the Hawke twins. This is Carver, and this is Bethany.”  
  
“Hello,” Bethany said, bounding forward to take Anders’ hands in hers. “It’s so nice to finally meet you! Cole has been quite lonely, looking in from the outside so often by himself.”  
  
“Oh, I’m sure,” Anders said weakly. “And what’s your assigned number, then?”  
  
“I’m the Two of Diamonds,” she replied, before throwing a glance over her shoulder. “Carver, come over and say hi!”  
  
The young man seemed to drag himself across the clearing, as though he was being held back by an invisible force. He only gave Anders a quick nod as he greeted him. “Hello.”  
  
“Are you the Three of-”  
  
“Two, actually,” Carver answered quickly. “We’re twins, after all,” he added, almost irritably. Bethany only giggled and nodded to confirm what her brother was saying.  
  
Anders did his best to look like it didn’t puzzle him at all. “Of course. How silly of me.”

* * *

Sera had disappeared by the time Anders met with the Queen and the twins. He figured he’d see her around sooner or later, though judging by the disdain she’d had towards the other Joker, he guessed it would be later rather than sooner. Anders rode on the Queen’s horse while Levana rode with Cullen, after being informed that they were returning to the capital, Denerim, in time for a feast at the palace.  
  
“The Spades are hosting this year, so it is only right the feast be held in Denerim,” Cullen explained along the way. “Last year, the Clubs hosted, and we made a mess out of Orlais. Not that anyone minded, of course. The King of Clubs is a gracious host.”  
  
“And a ruthless party animal. In any case, this year is the year of the Spade,” Levana added, smiling. “How nice that we have our final Joker to ring in the new year with us as well. The King of Spades will be pleased.”  
  
“So how is it that there are four sets of Kings and Queens and no wars?” Anders asked.  
  
Both the King and Queen broke into smiles at the same time. “It’s just not done, Anders,” Levana said. “War would take all the good parties away, and the Clubs would die if we deprived them of that.”  
  
“The Spades may seem rather stern but the King is a good man. War is not in his vocabulary, as is the case for his son, the Two of Spades,” Cullen went on, picking up where Levana left off. “He enjoys the thrill of a good hunt every now and then, but he has no desire to cross over into our borders, or anyone else’s for that matter.”  
  
“And what about the Hearts?”  
  
“They?” Levana laughed. “They are disciplined and contained. Good people if you have the patience to know them, and wonderful if they find that they like you, too.”  
  
“And no desire to conquer and overthrow?”  
  
Cullen chuckled. “Their King would not allow it. The Hearts are our dear friends. You have nothing to fear.”  
  
They rode on in silence after that. Anders pondered on his discoveries so far. He understood the hierarchies within every suit now, and geographically, where they reigned. The only thing that was still missing was the knowledge of how he had come to be here, and where he had come from. He knew the world as though he’d known it all his life – places like Denerim, Amaranthine, Orlais and the Free Marches did not seem like strange terms to him. He knew even about Orzammar, but his origins still remained a mystery. His head throbbed distantly every time he thought about it, and he eventually decided to lay it to rest for now and look forward to the feast at Denerim.  
  
The only thing Anders allowed himself to think of other than the food was the other Joker, Cole. If he, too, was a Joker, then he would be able to shed light on Anders’ situation. Appearing out of nowhere with no recollection of before… Anders decided that Cole was the key to understanding more, and made a mental note to search for him during the feast later on.


	2. Garrett

"As for myself, I felt completely different. I saw the world as an amazing dream. I was hunting for some kind of explanation of how everything fit together.” 

* * *

 

They arrived in Denerim at dusk. Anders dismounted and took a moment to collect himself. He looked out at the horizon and was captured by it; the setting sun was a bright and burning thing, and it was as though he was seeing it for the first time. Not knowing where he had come from weighed a little less on his heart as Bethany called for him to follow them in; he turned, and was surprised to see an entire escort receiving the King and Queen of Diamonds.  
  
They weren’t normal soldiers, Anders could tell. At the head of the group stood a man with pale golden hair, standing as tall and as proud as Cullen was as they greeted each other. Though he was certainly much older, Anders was sure he had the vitality of a dragon still. Beside him stood a dark-haired woman, around his age – presumably his wife – and beside her stood a man with a brooding look on his face. Anders wasn’t quite sure, but he thought they looked like quite the trio.  
  
“King Maric, there’s someone you must meet,” Cullen said, still gripping the older man’s hand in his. He cast a glance at Anders and gestured for him to step forward. “This is the Joker we found in the Brecilian forest in the morning. His name is Anders.”  
  
“The Joker! Wonderful,” Maric stepped forward, releasing Cullen’s hand so he could replace it with Anders’ instead. “We’ve been waiting for you, you know.”  
  
“Sorry I’m late,” Anders managed feebly.  
  
Maric laughed. “This must be so new to you. No matter. You must at least know what a good reception looks like, yes?” He indicated the woman by his side. “This is my wife, Rowan. The Queen of Spades, and a magnificent one at that.” He beamed at her. “Though she tells me to stop introducing her as such. I can’t help it. It’s this thing I do, you know.”  
  
Rowan smiled. “I have not forgotten, Maric.”  
  
“And here!” Maric pulled Anders along with him, so that he was now face-to-face with the brooding man in grey armor. “This is my oldest friend, Loghain Mac Tir. Also known as the Jack of Spades.”  
  
Loghain gave Anders a curt nod, reminiscent of Carver. Anders briefly wondered if they were somehow related, though that seemed impossible, seeing as how they were in different suits. “Well met, Joker.”  
  
“Nice to meet you,” Anders said, before being spirited away by Maric once more. It seemed the King of Spades had more interest in a Joker than his fellow monarchs.  
  
“You must be feeling terribly lost,” the old King said, guiding Anders through the main doors and into the large hall. “As was the first Joker, when he first came to be here. So confused, and uttering riddles at every turn! I’m not that much of a thinker, but he’s taught me a thing or two since. Here.” Maric snatched up a goblet of wine, seemingly out of thin air, and offered it to Anders. “I hope you don’t speak in riddles as well. That would be… difficult. Rowan would probably have an easier time navigating through floofy words and all that…”  
  
“Oh, I don’t speak in riddles. I prefer speaking plainly,” Anders said, before taking a mouthful of wine. It tasted of berries, which he liked.  
  
“Thank the Maker,” Maric said, almost dramatically. “Ah, here comes the King and Queen of Diamonds. I should probably get back to entertaining them as is befit of a well-mannered host, or else Loghain will- yes, he’s presently giving me that look of _utter responsibility_ -” Maric patted Anders on the back. “I will find a chance to speak with you again, Anders. Probably!”  
  
“Probably,” Anders echoed, and watched Maric walk off to greet Cullen and Levana once more. He noticed the twins sneaking off elsewhere and decided they were wise in doing so – the hall was beginning to fill with more guests, and Anders wasn’t quite sure where to start looking for Cole.  
  
“Well, well… what have we here?”  
  
Anders choked on his wine at the sudden intrusion. He quickly set down his goblet and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and turned to face the woman who had addressed him. She was unconventionally striking, he noticed, and somehow he knew that she knew how different she was and revelled in it. She brushed the dark hair from her eyes and studied him without preamble.  
  
“The Joker, finally come to join the rest of the pack at last,” she finally said, golden eyes gleaming knowingly. “A most interesting turn of events.”  
  
“How interesting could one Joker be, really,” Anders remarked. “We don’t belong in any suit, after all. You shouldn’t bother…”  
  
“I will assume that you are attempting to be kind, to rid me of the burden of your company because you feel inadequate,” the woman said darkly. “But we have been expecting you, indeed. Your arrival… ‘tis a thing of fate, if you choose to believe.”  
  
“At this point, it’s still a thing of confusion,” Anders admitted. “I don’t know much about fate. I’m sorry – I didn’t catch your name…”  
  
“You may call me Morrigan,” the woman answered. “Or the Ace of Clubs, if you wish to uphold needless formalities.”  
  
“I’m not big on formalities. _Especially_ the needless kind.”  
  
Morrigan smiled, only slightly. Somehow, Anders knew it was genuine. “As you should be.”  
  
It was only after a bout of silence and forced mouthfuls of wine to look busy that Anders finally thought of what to say, though Morrigan seemed quite content with not having to hold a conversation and observing everyone else.  
  
“You know, since we’re talking and everything… I was wondering if you could help me look for somebody.”  
  
“You speak of the other Joker,” Morrigan replied smoothly, without missing a beat. “The one named Cole.”  
  
“Yes, him.” Anders wrung his hands. “I think he and I need to have a talk. About Jokers. And… all our… Jokerness.”  
  
“Eloquent,” Morrigan said, without even so much as a glance. “I am unsure whether he is capable of giving you the answers you seek, however. He does not seem like an adept conversationalist."  
  
Anders glanced across the great hall and looked at every face he could spot. None of them looked particularly lost or Joker-like… though he wasn’t sure himself what a Joker looked like. There was a red-haired dwarf chugging down mug after mug of what Anders guessed was ale, and a bald elf looking on in disdain. Neither looked like the ‘Cole’ Anders was looking for. He wondered how long he would take to track down this Joker.  
  
“In any case,” Morrigan continued, “I do not know where he most often dwells. I doubt anyone in this room can tell you clearly, either. Most do not remember him, for one reason or another…”  
  
“He’s a person, isn’t he? I doubt anyone can forget a person.”  
  
“That remains to be seen.”  
  
Anders didn’t want to know what Morrigan was referring to – whether Cole was a person or whether people truly can forget someone completely. He shuddered at the thought of Cole being a wandering spirit. It wasn’t comforting. Spirits didn’t have to care about where they came from, or preserving memories.  
  
The red-haired dwarf let out a great belch from across the hall. Anders blinked. “And who is that, may I ask?”  
  
Morrigan actually glanced at him and scowled. “That is a spot upon the Clubs, if you truly wish to know. Seven of Clubs.”  
  
“Such needless formality, Lady Morrigan.”  
  
She looked ready to throttle him – or perhaps the belching dwarf, who was now laughing heartily at the responses people were giving him. The bald elf was quietly slipping away, perhaps to a less unpleasant part of the hall.  
  
“Oghren,” she ground out.  
  
“Ah.” Anders nodded. “Quite the… drinker.”  
  
“Disgusting,” Morrigan hissed. “Let us move on to less revolting subjects, or else I will have to find someone else to pass the time at this mundane festival.”  
  
“Alright, then,” Anders said, straightening slightly. He pointed to a fearsome looking Qunari in a corner, surrounded by an assortment of different individuals. “Who’s he, and why does he seem so popular?”  
  
“The Iron Bull,” Morrigan answered, eager to leave the topic of Oghren behind. “Four of Diamonds. The ones surrounding him are his Chargers – Five to Ten of Diamonds. He likes to call them his Chargers, though there is hardly a need for a mercenary group to form up in such peaceful times.”  
  
“Peace is a lie,” Anders said quickly. Morrigan glanced at him, curious, before letting the comment pass unaddressed.  
  
Anders cleared his throat. He wasn’t sure where that statement had come from. He indicated the bald elf standing by himself, just watching the crowd from the second floor. “He must be very friendly.”  
  
“Solas,” Morrigan said. “Three of Hearts prefers to keep to himself. I can understand why.” Anders was certain she was making that remark with Oghren in mind.  
  
“Alright. Who’s that handsome chap with the bow and white armor?”  
  
“Sebastian Vael of Starkhaven. Four of Spades.” Morrigan chuckled. “Only speak to him if you have a fervent love for the Maker and the spreading of His light. Else he has very little to talk about.”  
  
“Religious man, then.” Anders nodded. “Good to know.” He went on pointing out individuals and Morrigan told him about every one, until he had exhausted all his options and knew almost every name and corresponding suit – at least, of those who were currently present.  
  
“Ah, typical,” Morrigan sneered. “The Ace of Diamonds is late, as usual.”  
  
“Someone I should know?” Anders asked.  
  
“He is someone who is also not big on formalities, as you are.” Morrigan wrinkled her nose. “He is the older brother of the twins. Most people call him Hawke out of convenience.”  
  
“Really?” Another voice interrupted. “I think it’s because people always forget my first name. A shame, really.”  
  
Morrigan didn’t seem the least bit surprised. Anders turned around to see a dark-haired, bearded man with a red streak of – was that blood? – something across his nose standing there with a mug of ale in his hand, dressed in the most outlandish thing anyone could ever think of wearing to a grand party. The Ace of Diamonds looked more ready to jump into battle than anyone here, though it didn’t seem to occur to him that the Spades might have declared a dress code.  
  
“Hawke,” Morrigan greeted, not unkindly. “Always showing up at the last minute.”  
  
“It’s not like anyone keeps track,” Hawke said, grinning. “Though I suppose Cullen wants his Ace to keep up appearances for the Diamonds.”  
  
“The Aces are prominent people, then?”  
  
“About as prominent as a druffalo amongst a herd of halla, yes,” Hawke nodded. "Anora, the Ace of Spades, is best known for her glares, much like her father, while the Ace of Hearts – that’s Leliana – knows literally every secret you have after about two minutes of talking to you. And Morrigan here-”  
  
“Is leaving,” Morrigan finished for Hawke. She fixed her gaze on Anders. “Enjoy the rest of the evening, Joker. Try not to let the Ace fool you into thinking he’s pleasant company.”  
  
“Lady Morrigan, you wound me!” Hawke grinned as she turned her back to him and walked off, disappearing into the crowd. He turned back to Anders and shrugged. “I’m actually her favorite around here.”  
  
“Really?” Anders raised an eyebrow. “I find that… so hard to believe.”  
  
“Because she’s convincing when she wants to be,” Hawke said. He stretched out a gloved hand. “Garrett Hawke, by the way.”  
  
“Garrett,” Anders said, taking his hand and shaking it. “That’s not too difficult a name to remember.”  
  
“You say that now,” Hawke said, raising his mug to his lips while watching Anders knowingly. It seemed everyone knew something he didn’t, in this place, and Anders was growing tired of it.  
  
“So why are you late, Ace?”  
  
“No reason. It’s not because Denerim’s huge and I separated from the Diamonds because I was distracted by shiny things in the market district…” Hawke grinned. “That is completely untrue.”  
  
“Right,” Anders drawled. “You’re not nearly half as convincing as Morrigan.”  
  
Hawke chuckled. “I like to think that makes me endearing.”  
  
“Of course you do.” Anders chuckled. “So… you don’t happen to know where I can find a Joker named Cole, do you?”  
  
Hawke blinked. “As a matter of fact, I was just talking to the boy in the courtyard before coming here. Do you want me to take you to him?”  
  
“That would be very kind of you, Hawke.”  
  
Hawke held up a hand. “Garrett.”  
  
“Does it make a difference?” Anders asked.  
  
“Sure it does. Especially when all three Hawke siblings look in your direction and you have to clarify just which Hawke you’re calling.”  
  
Anders sighed. “Alright, _Garrett_. Take me to the Joker!”  
  
Hawke grinned. “Right this way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hawke is the ace of diamonds, not ace of hearts! messed up my own cards before i even started lmfao.


End file.
